Behind Blue Eyes
by Reiven
Summary: Tala-centric. Yuriy lost to Takao, and Balkov, on the verge of being arrested, is fuming. His anger directed at the Captain for his trechery, will he do the unthinkable and rid Russia of one of its best blader? Or will Yuriy beat him to it?


**Disclaimer**: Yuriy is a hot, but mine ... he is not.

Deleted lyrics, might make no sense at all!

**Yuriy **– Tala.  
**Balkov **– Boris.  
**Neo Borg **- Demolition Boys.

**Behind Blue Eyes.**

* * *

_--_

Yuriy sat alone within the confines of his room. He rubbed his cheek, reddened with the force of Balkov's power that he had unleashed after Yuriy's failure to defeat the BladeBreakers. Balkov and Voltaire's plan had crumbled. The world was no longer their oyster that they could manipulate for their own amusement ... Yuriy had made sure of that. Putting himself and his teammates at risk, he had destroyed Balkov's life work. Now Voltaire had been arrested and Balkov and the Abbey under serious investigation. It was only a matter of time before Balkov too, would join his partner in crime, but for how long? Will he keep quiet in jail, knowing that the one person he counted on to fulfill his dream had betrayed him? That he had been reached by Stanley Dickinson to deceive him. His life was no longer safe; and Yuriy knew that. Balkov would hunt him down like a rabid wolf and kill him, slowly.

Yuriy stood up from his bed, determination burning brightly in his icy blue orbs. Balkov would kill him ... unless ... he did it first ...

_--_

He thought of his teammates ... his friends. What would they think of him once it was over, once he had executed his plan. Would they mourn for the loss? Or would they celebrate the gain of freedom? No more would they be forced to take orders.

They have known each other for so long, will they think badly of him? Will they shun the memory of the old Yuriy and replace it with the memory of Yuriy the coward who in a time of crisis; did the unthinkable? Or will they applaud him for his bravery to free himself from a life of pain and suffering? Yuriy shook his head ... he hated being confused. He also hated what Balkovs' experiment had done to him. He was no longer himself ... he was a cyborg. He hated being hated, but that is what he is. He doesn't matter to the world, and the world doesn't matter to him. Yuriy took a deep breath, wondering whether he would be lying, if he said he wanted to be normal.

_--_

Yuriy maybe cold and ruthless, he might be a lot of things, but stupid isn't one of them. They don't know what goes through his head as he sits quietly in the stands, surveying his surroundings. He knows a lot of things that others can't begin to imagine. He knows how to live ... he knows how to die. Death was simple, but he had survived this long, long past any of the other kids that had been in the abbey with him, even Kai.

Kai abandoned the abbey, left his past behind him and started anew. Yuriy on the other hand, is a survivor, one of the first that had come to the abbey, and the only one still remaining. He loved Beyblading, to the disbelief of others, he strived for it, for the feeling of power that it gave him; but enough is enough. Nothing in the world could now change his mind; he was dead set on ridding the world of one of its own. No one could stop him, for it was his own life he was destroying. One death would mean nothing, just as one life that was not worth living. He walked slowly to the door, taking one look around his room, reflecting on the past and walked out, never to return to the one place that he could have called home.

_--_

The BladeBreakers and their friends celebrated all through the night. They deserved to, having claimed victory over the fearsome Russian champions. Rei was the first person to notice as the news came on and the newsreader said aloud in a clear voice. The others noticed this and quieted up, listening intently to the television.

_Today is a time of mourning for the whole of Russia, for it had lost one of its finest. The member and one of the finest leaders born of Russia, was found dead by an apparent suicide in his home at the Abbey, early this morning. This leader of the former world champion Russian team, the Neo Borg, is believed to have been dismayed by the recent loss of their title at the hands of the Underdog team, the BladeBreakers. Known for his ruthlessness and, some believed, unorthodox methods of winning tournaments, has not deferred him from achieving his goal of gaining victory against many opponents. This is truly a sad day for all Beyblading fans alike._

_--_

_-- **Flashback** --_

_A young, red-haired boy stood in what looked to be a dark dungeon, his arms chained high above his head. His back was littered with whiplashes, some seemed old and the others, still bleeding heavily. Behind him stood the sinister looking man with weird goggles riding low on his crooked nose. He smirked cruelly and raised his whip high into the air, and brought it down with a mighty force upon the young boy's back. He flinched slightly and squeezed his eyes shut to numb the intense pain that was spreading like wildfire in his body, but he didn't cry out._

_A thin trail of blood oozed out the corner of his mouth; he had bitten his tongue in an effort to not scream aloud in agony. The young boy was made example of the punishment that would be received by any of the children who dared to defy him. Punishment was a normal thing that went on in the abbey, the thick walls that surrounded the abbey was a assurance that none on the other side would be any wiser. Balkov was strict. He would punish all, no matter how small the misconduct was. Misdemeanors would result in punishment. Persistent mistakes would result in punishment. Defeat would result in the worst punishment of all._

_--_

_The children of the abbey grew up. They were no longer children. Though, only a hand full had survived the hell on earth, the few that Balkov had considered worthy, the others ... were eliminated, contemptible, Balkov had called them. As time passed, the number grew less and less, until only one was left. Balkov had weeded out the weak, and all that was left was the ultimate blader. Others joined, but none lived up to his standard. He was the strongest of all. He scrutinized everything and everyone quietly, from behind blue eyes._

_--**End Flashback**--_

_--_

The burial ground was packed. He was not particularly liked by a lot of people, but they came none-the-less. Some with more noble intentions, crying for the lost soul, while others only attending out of obligation. Far left of the coffin, stood the Neo Borg, their faces impassive to what emotions they were currently feeling. Guilt? Anger? Or joy? No one knew.

Standing apart from the others, was Kai. His face showed nothing. He was one of the people only there because the feeling of responsibility. He knew the deceased, known him for a long time. But did he forgive him? Could he bring himself to forgive now that he was dead? He shook his head and leaned against the tree in contemplation.

People left as the weather clouded and it started to rain heavily. One of the last were the Neo Borg and the BladeBreakers, who were there strictly out of respect. Soon, the cemetery was completely barren of any life, save for one. The person walked over to the tombstone, and kneeled down.

"You thought I would feel guilty didn't you? I have thought about it long and hard, and finally realized that this isn't my fault. You were the one who brought this on yourself. You practically tied the noose around your neck with your own two hands," he smirked, "guilt is for the weak, you told me once, and I feel no guilt, only satisfaction. I don't care what people say, I did it for myself; I preserved myself. Like I have done in the past, I survived."

The figure stood up, and without a glance back, he walked away. Leaving behind his past, and heading for a brighter future. His wet, fiery red hair whipping around in the strong wind.

The grey tombstone behind him drenched in rain, was carved with one phrase.

**Here Lies the Body of Boris Balkov**.

* * *

**The End.**


End file.
